


Two hundred words to say I love you

by catmanu



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Belgium National Team, Bubble Bath, Croatian National Football Team, FC Barcelona, First Kiss, Ivantoine, Liverpool F.C., Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Phone Sex, Polyamory, Real Madrid CF, Shakira Mention, Shower Sex, Spit As Lube, Tottenham Hotspur, Underwear Kink, Valentine's Day, Zenit St. Petersburg, ivantoine's vague vague daddy thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29437536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catmanu/pseuds/catmanu
Summary: I challenged myself to write Valentine's Day fics while keeping them to 200 words or fewer.  (Except the ones where that didn't work.)   Theres's one for each of these pairings.  Enjoy!
Relationships: Antoine Griezmann/Ivan Rakitić, Dejan Lovren/Mohamed Salah, Dejan Lovren/Šime Vrsaljko, Gerard Piqué/Sergio Ramos, Luka Modrić/Ivan Rakitić, Luka Modrić/Sergio Ramos, Paulo Gazzaniga/Jan Vertonghen, Paulo Gazzaniga/Jan Vertonghen/Dries Mertens, Sardar Azmoun/Artem Dzyuba, Sardar Azmoun/Artem Dzyuba/Dejan Lovren
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	1. I'll think about it (Rakidric, T)

It’s been so long.Sevilla is closer to Madrid than Barcelona was, for sure. But Covid still exists, and he thinks Luka’s still _mad_.

Ivan wishes he had his hand in the soft waves of Luka’s hair, tugging, while Luka kisses down Ivan’s abs till his heart-shaped lips hungrily wrap around his—

He calls Luka instead.

“Fuck you,” Luka says instead of _Hi, Ivan._

“I guess the kids aren’t around?”

“Let me say it again. Fuck. You.”

Anything sounds hot with Luka’s low voice saying it, but his anger still stings.

“It was almost six months ago, Luka…”

“You left me at the worst time, Ivan. Well, all of us.”

But Ivan knows Luka. As much as he’s the captain, as much as he cares about the whole team—sometimes Ivan is still the first thing on his mind. And that’s a sign.

“So you’re only still mad at me because you love me so much?”

Luka breathes out hard into the phone. “Against my better judgement…yeah.”

Ivan holds the phone tighter as if that could make Luka appear in his arms. “Maybe we’ll see each other next Valentine’s Day?”

“Come back to the Vatreni and I’ll think about it.”


	2. T'estimo (Serard, G)

Geri thinks Valentine’s Day is a whole lot of bullshit.He thinks Shak likes it, but it’s not like she needs a particular day to show affection.Anyway, with all their birthdays so close to Valentine’s Day, there isn’t even a point to celebrating this kind of bullshit, right? _Right?_

_Right?_

It’s a little past noon on the stupid day itself when Shak walks into their workout room holding his phone. 

“I think you’ll want to answer it."

It's Sergio here to bother him, right on fucking cue."Sorry, wrong number," Geri says, slowing the treadmill down to a crawl.

"I just got a delivery," Sergio says. "I have a weird feeling it's from you. Want to confirm or deny it?"

"I'd love to deliver my fist to your stupid mouth," Geri says, his cheeks turning a pink that has nothing to do with his workout.

"Hmmm, there's flowers.So many balloons.Chocolates...Oh, there's a card, too," Sergio says."In your handwriting, Geri.It says— _T'estimo_.You love me, huh?"

"Sorry, the connection's shitty," Geri gasps.Why does he keep doing these things for Sergio, anyway? "I can't hear a word you're saying."


	3. Gifts (Sardartem + Dejan, T)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is almost 300 words, don't @ me. If it's about 3 people it can have more words 😉

Artem seems distracted on his phone in the hotel lobby.He’s not being a loud pain in the ass with the guys, like normal.Dejan wonders what’s going on.Is he feeling long-term effects of Covid, or something?Fuck, maybe he actually should get the vaccine like he’d told the Zenit interviewer he would…

“What’s up?” he says, sitting down next to Artem on the couch, hoping he looks casual.It’s hard for him to spread his legs out like he likes to do with the big guy taking up so much room.Artem’s still fucking around on his phone.He doesn’t even look up.

“Hello?Don’t ignore me, I’m talking to you.What are you doing?”

Artem finally looks up and blinks a few times.His blue eyes look confused for a second, like he’s forgotten where they are.“I’m buying gifts for Sardar.It’s almost Valentine's Day.”

“ _Gifts?_ Like, more than one?"

"Yes, like, more than one."

"How many does he need, brate?He’s twenty-five, not a kid.”

“Twenty-six,” Artem says, looking annoyed, like he can’t believe Dejan would have the balls to forget how old Sardar was."And he's very spoiled, you know? As he should be, right? I like to spoil him too.Do you want to see what I'm buying?Look at these stuffed horses I found.They have—"

"I'll pass.How about me?What are you doing for me?" Dejan says.

"Oh, you think you deserve a present?"

"Of course I deserve a present."

Artem's huge smile is back, and his eyes light up. _Oh, fuck._ "Don't worry, we think so too.Sardar and I.We have something planned for you."

Part of Dejan is interested.But God, when these two have something planned for him, it's usually the next level of _what the fuck._ He doesn't know how they have so much energy to _plan_ things.Maybe it's because Sardar is only twenty-five...twenty-six."What is it, brate?Bratka."

"Oh, you will see, you will see."Artem grins."But if you let me show you what I'm getting for Sardar, I'll give you a hint."


	4. Nuestro (Modramos, M)

Sergio remembers his Instagram caption over the summer. _Ay, mi Lukita, La Liga es nuestra!_ What had he been thinking doing that, anyway? Weren’t they supposed to be careful about how they felt about each other?

But, it’s hard to be careful when you’ve been in lockdown for months, away from your friends, away from _him_ , and then just a couple months after that hell ends you pull ahead of the blaugrana fucks and you’re champions of Spain.You and your perfect team and _him_.

Now, it’s painful for Sergio to see his team falling apart before his eyes, sure.He stays awake at night wondering if part of it is his injury’s fault.Wondering if he _is_ getting too old, as much as he describes himself to Perez and Zidane as the Spanish Buffon, _gonna play till I'm 100, just watch!_

But Real’s got someone who’s forever young.That someone is Lukita.Lukita is his. 

He whispers it at every time possible—in his ear during training, against his insane abs when he's kissing them, biting them into his neck while deep inside him with their genius little midfielder's nails digging into his back.

_Ay, mi Lukita…el mundo es nuestro!_


	5. Fuck the Deep State (Šejan, E)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is also a little over 200 words. Šejan just be like that.

The guys are joking about pandemics.It's making Dejan very nervous.And there's only one solution for when he feels this weird.

He buys a ticket and flies home for the weekend.He buys a ticket for Šime, too.

_Meet me at the hotel._

It's the off-season so the Joel Hotel is closed, and maybe it should feel like The Shining but it doesn't, and instead of those creepy twins he's got Šime in his red lace underwear stretched out on their bed.It's late February, but Šime's cock still looks like Valentine's Day straining against the lace.

"Hey, dragi. Wanna watch a documentary about the Clintons and the deep state?"

"Fuck, no," Šime sighs. He crawls onto all fours and leans on one elbow so he can push the underwear to the side."None of that bullshit.Just fuck me, Deki.We don't have a lot of time."

Dejan's fully hard in a second.Fuck the deep state.Better to be deep inside Šime.He spits onto Šime's hole, massages it into his warm skin there, and pushes into him.No lube needed, ever.

Šime hisses and gurgles and squeezes around Dejan."Deki..." he says.He reaches around again to grab Dejan's hand.He shoves it against the bulge in the red lace.

“I love that you’re still wearing this for me,” Dejan whispers.

“Well, it makes me feel good,” Šime chokes out as Dejan increases his pace.He can’t hold back with Šime.He never will.“And it makes me think of you.”

“I love you, ljubavi,” Dejan moans.He rubs at Šime’s cock through the underwear, harder and harder and faster and faster.

“I love you too, Deki.No one is better than you.”


	6. Rostov, 2015 (Sardartem, M)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YIKE this one is really long I'm So Sorry I've failed at my own challenge lmao

Sardar is not exactly new to Russia, but it seems like Rostov is just a little warmer than Kazan, and he's sort of surprised to see that it looks like spring is coming. Soon, after such a cold winter, the trees will be green again. And that makes him happy.

It also makes him happy to see Artem waiting for him unexpectedly outside his apartment. He's leaning all casually against a car, but he's biting his lips like he's worried. He's older than Sardar by six years or so—and Sardar's just twenty—so he's probably done a LOT of things, but sometimes he looks really nervous when it's just the two of them together. Once they went to a movie and Artem held his hand in the dark and Sardar felt like he could feel Artem's heartbeat pounding through his hand the whole time. Sardar knows he'll never forget this, even if he lives to be one hundred.

"Hey, Sardar. Invite me in."

"But—we have training soon."

"I said, invite me in," Artem says. His blue eyes are so wide and they're just so pretty. Sardar has to listen. He opens the door again and Artem pushes him against the hallway wall, using his huge shoulders to keep him there. Sardar feels like he's going to fall over. But in a really good way.

"Happy Valentine's Day, my Sardar," he says.

Sardar giggles even though he feels like he can't breathe. But also in a really good way. Artem just makes him laugh. "What the fuck, Artem, it's April."

"I didn't know you on Valentine's Day, so I'm changing the date," Artem says. "I'm Artem Dzyuba, I can do these things. So. Happy Valentine's Day to us. I want you to be my boyfriend." He rubs his cheek against Sardar's. "Do you want that too?"

Sardar has always wanted someone to ask this, and there's a million things he wants to say to the person who he's so glad is the one to finally ask him, but first— "We...we couldn't tell anyone, Artem."

"Of course not, how fucking dumb do you think I am, huh?" Artem very gently smacks him on the face. "We could never tell. But _we_ would know."

"Okay, Artem. Then yes. Yes, yes, yes. I want to be your." Sardar swallows. "Your boyfriend. I'm so glad we both wound up at Rostov, oh my God, can you imagine if we hadn't met each other?"

Artem just smiles and takes Sardar's face in his hands and kisses him. It's warm and wet and he uses his tongue even though it's their first time and he doesn't stop. Sardar really doesn't know how to kiss another man, but. The little moans Artem is already making makes him think he must be pretty good at it.

"Wow...our first kiss," he says to Artem.

"First kiss."

"So. What else do boyfriends do?" Sardar pokes Artem's strong chest. "I'm just a baby. You have to teach me how it goes..."

"Hmmm, hmmm," Artem says. "It depends on how late we want to be for training..."

Sardar grins and reaches up a little to throw his arms around Artem's neck. He keeps this a secret, but he really likes to get his way, and a lot of the time he does. And it's just happened again without him even having to try. Just from being who he is. "Fuck it," he says. "Let's call and say we're sick."

"Hmm, is that responsible?"

Sardar's already halfway up the stairs to his apartment. He stops and calls back down to Artem. "What, you're too old to keep up with me? Get up here."

"Keep it in your pants for five more seconds, Sardar, shit," Artem says. "I'm just calling Berdyev. We both have food poisoning, so sad. It's a terrible coincidence, right?"


	7. Join Us (Jazzaniga + Dries, E)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [amethystfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amethystfox/pseuds/amethystfox) and [ayerlind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayerlind/pseuds/ayerlind)...Hopefully I did your boys a bit of justice 🙏🏼

The best thing about Jantje and Paulo being...well, a thing...is that if he calls and catches them both at once, it's such a feast for his eyes. And, more importantly, his cock.

It's Valentine's Day. Jantje _must_ be hanging out with Paulo, that complete stud of a keeper. A keeper in more ways than one...Argentina's famous for its beef, right? "Hmm, that's some prime, steakhouse-in-Dubai grade meat right there," he says to himself as he dials Jan, thinking of Paulo's blue eyes against Spurs' turquoise kit.

"Is that what you think of me, Dries?" Paulo rumbles through his phone's tiny speakers. Dries nearly drops it in shock, but he recovers.

"You should be flattered that I think of you at all, darling. Just kidding. Hellooooo, my Jantje. And Paulo. What are you two—"

His mouth drops open wide enough to fit both Jan and Paulo in it at once—if only—as he sees the scene. They're in a bathtub. With _bubbles!_ Paulo's tanned arm is wrapped firmly around Jan's beautiful body, his fist moving around Jan's cock, hard underneath all the foam.

"Join us, schatje," Jan says. He's trying to be cool and smooth, but his voice is strained. He's squirming against Paulo, who's holding him so tight. Dries knows how Jantje likes to be held. _Tight._

"And how the fuck can I do that with you in England and me in Italy? Enlighten me, Jantje, you are older and wiser, after all."

"By what, two weeks?"

"That's enough," Paulo commands, and Jan turns pink and shuts up. "Tell him what you mean, mi pelirrojito."

"You have a hand, you have a camera, you have a cock, Driesje," Jan says, slowly. "Join us."

"I guess all the blood's left my brain," Dries says, flipping the camera toward his crotch so he can show them what he means. "I've got a bathtub, I've got some of Lore's favorite bubble bath..." May as well slip that detail in there, just so Jan doesn't forget how _in-demand_ he is himself. "Shall I...join you two gentlemen?"

"Oh, I would like that very much," Paulo says, his arm tightening visibly around Jantje. "But you will hurry, yes? We both know Jan won't last much longer."


	8. Confidence (Movren, E)

_I don't celebrate Valentine's Day,_ Mo has warned him, but somehow he and Mo are the last guys in the locker room after training on February 14th, and Dejan doesn't think this is an accident.

"Who did you pay off, Mo?" Dejan says, turning on the water in one of the shower stalls.

"What?"

"You paid someone to clear everyone out of here fast. Is this why you are so tight with the money, Mo? Saving up for me?"

He grabs a handful of soft curls and tugs Mo into the shower with him, pushing him right underneath the stream of hot water so he's soaked instantly. Mo's hard as Dejan grinds against him, and then his beautiful boy reaches for some body wash, squirts some into his palm, and wraps it confidently around both him and Dejan.

"Holy shit, Mo, fuck," Dejan pants at the slide of Mo's fist and Mo's cock against his. "Where did you find this confidence, are you sure you are Mo Salah?"

Mo just laughs and shakes his head and turns around, pressing his chest and palms against the shower wall and sticking his plump ass out at Dejan.

"Hurry up, Dej, come on," he says. "Make me believe in Valentine's Day. I don't want to have paid off Hendo for no reason."

"You what?"

"I'm just kidding, Dej, just kidding," Mo laughs, but knowing Mo, Dejan thinks as he gets ready to lube up with the body wash, anything is possible. 


	9. Happy Valentine's Day (Ivantoine, M)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean, Ivantoine's over? Not in my head it's not 💅🏼

"Uh, do you know what's coming up?" Ivan asks, staring at Antoine as Antoine squints at FIFA 2020 on his room's TV.

"Oh, I don't know, you telling me for the fiftieth time that my goal against Getafe tonight was a masterpiece?"

"If you don't want me to compliment you, I'll stop..." Ivan doesn't know why this makes him feel so sad. There are still a lot of things he doesn't understand about Antoine.

"Just fucking with you, daddy," Antoine says, grinning. He pauses the game and rolls over onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow and staring up at Ivan. The way those eyes look...Ivan can't be too hurt. "What's coming up?"

"Valentine's Day."

"Oooh. Good call...Are we gonna celebrate?"

"I know it's a little early," Ivan says. "But I was thinking we could do that tonight?"

"Yes, daddy," Antoine breathes. "Do you...have a present for me, maybe?"

How can he say this to beautiful, sweet Antoine? Gifts leave evidence that Ivan isn't sure he's ready for. Not yet.

So he nudges the waistband of his joggers down. "How about this?" he asks. Gifts? It's taken him a while to even get _this_ far.

Antoine nods and licks his lips. Ivan smiles. Now his worries will disappear, at least for a bit. Antoine himself is a gift, and he doesn't even know.


End file.
